Chapter 2

For the sake of convenience in doing business, the buns at the Zhan Family Bun Shop were steamed inside the shop but sold from a stall set up in front. Xu Shi was a bit slow to react, and with so many small items to tidy up, she didn’t manage to clear everything away in time when that wave of people arrived. The shop’s wooden shutters weren’t fully secured either.

That group of people was conspicuous. Wherever they walked, it was as if an invisible force cleared the way. Pedestrians who couldn’t flee in time desperately scrambled to the roadside, as though afraid even a single strand of their hair might brush against them.

To be fair, the dozen or so people walking down the middle of the road didn’t look particularly fearsome—just ordinary faces, some old, some young, with a hint of hierarchy among them. The four or five at the front and center were dressed more brightly. Leading them was a plump old man with thick eyebrows and large eyes, though his face bore dark circles, and his gaze seemed somewhat weary. Swaggering, he took large strides and quickly reached the Zhan Family Bun Shop. Spotting a few buns still left in the bamboo tray, he grabbed one without hesitation.

The three or four people behind him laughed and followed suit, each taking a bun before swaggering off. Xu Shi stood dumbfounded, not daring to stop them. Zhan Jianxing, however, was indignant and wanted to chase after them to argue. Xu Shi hastily grabbed him: “Xing’er, just let it go!”

She didn’t know who these people were, but judging by their imposing presence, they clearly weren’t ordinary folk—and even if they were, how could the two of them stand up to such a large group?

Held back by his mother, Zhan Jianxing could only clench his fists in frustration. Many of those buns had been painstakingly shaped by his own hands. For these people to act so brazenly in broad daylight was no different from robbery!

Perhaps the fury in his gaze was too intense, because one of the group seemed to sense it and turned slightly to glance back.

It was the youngest among them, a boy around Zhan Jianxing’s age. When their eyes met, the boy showed no trace of shame for the street theft. His expression was indifferent, merely curling the corner of his lips in a smirk.

The boy had striking features—thick, dark eyebrows, a high nose bridge—a handsome face by all accounts. But that smirk was full of arrogance, almost provocative, infuriating Zhan Jianxing further. He glared and muttered under his breath, “Like master, like servant!”

The group of bun thieves was an odd mix, resembling a family outing with elders and youngsters, followed by what seemed like servants—hence Zhan Jianxing’s remark.

“Shh!” Xu Shi, afraid they might hear and come back to cause trouble, quickly covered his mouth.

Fortunately, peace held. No one turned back, though some showed no respect for food—two of them, finding the buns unpalatable, took a bite and casually tossed them to the ground.

Xu Shi winced as the perfectly good buns rolled in the dirt, turning gray with dust. Heart aching, she still didn’t dare speak up, pulling Zhan Jianxing close and shrinking against the shopfront. Only when the group had moved far away did she finally relax.

Across the street, Little Chen’s Wife cautiously peeked out. Once the group was well out of sight, she hurried over to the bun shop and said to Xu Shi, “Sister Xu, you’re lucky. Do you know who those people are?”

Xu Shi shook her head blankly. “Earlier, I thought I heard someone shouting something about a ‘Great King’—”

“Not the Great King, but the Prince of Dai—the one stationed in our city of Datong,” Little Chen’s Wife corrected.  

At this, Xu Shi suddenly understood. The founding emperor had conquered the realm and enfeoffed his sons, assigning them to guard key border towns—a fact known to all under heaven.  

Here in Datong, it was the Prince of Dai. However, the Prince Dai Manor was somewhat different from others. Zhu Xi, the Prince of Dai, was the thirteenth son of the founding emperor, notorious for his violent temper. For this, he had once been stripped of his princely title, only to have it restored when the late emperor ascended the throne. Yet, far from reforming, the prince’s old habits had worsened. Snatching steamed buns in the streets was the least of his offenses—he had a far more terrifying hobby: roaming the markets with his descendants, hiding hammers in their sleeves, and striking any passerby who displeased them on the head. Little Chen’s Wife had called Xu Shi lucky for this very reason—losing a few buns was far better than having one’s skull cracked or losing one’s life.  

The prince’s behavior treated the common folk as mere playthings, like livestock. Local officials sent memorial after memorial to the capital denouncing him. Eventually, even the late emperor, who had restored his title, could no longer tolerate it. Unwilling to reverse his own decision and demote him again, the late emperor—no pushover himself—took a harsher approach: he issued an edict confining the Prince Dai Manor under house arrest.  

This confinement lasted eight years.  

The people of Datong finally knew peace. As time passed, year after year, the high walls of Prince Dai Manor stood firm, its vermilion gates tightly shut. Gradually, the people forgot about the malevolent deity looming over them. By the time Xu Shi settled here, few still spoke of the prince in daily life.  

Now, hearing it was him, Xu Shi felt both fear and bewilderment. “Sister Chen,” she asked, “wasn’t the Prince of Dai confined under the late emperor’s reign? How could he appear on the streets now?”  

Little Chen’s Wife couldn’t answer that, but someone else could.  

Three or five yamen runners in blue uniforms hurried past the door. Being a local, Little Chen’s Wife recognized one of them and stopped him, asking, “Brother Gong, do you know why the Prince of Dai and his family have been released? We just saw him pass by—it gave us all a fright.”  

The runner surnamed Gong halted and immediately countered, “The prince just passed through here? Did he cause any trouble?”  

Little Chen’s Wife replied, “He stole a few steamed buns from Sister Xu’s stall, but nothing else.”  

Runner Gong sighed in relief. “Good, good.”  

“Good?” Little Chen’s Wife protested. “Look at this—half the street is in chaos!”  

She pressed him for an explanation, and Runner Gong sighed again. “In the eighth month, didn’t the late emperor pass away? The new emperor ascended the throne and issued a general pardon. At the very end, he remembered this uncle of his and decreed the release of Prince Dai Manor from confinement—just yesterday! And today, well… *sigh*!”  

His expression was full of bitterness, and Little Chen’s Wife’s face darkened at the news.  

This Prince of Dai might not have many talents, but he certainly knew how to survive. Counting up to now, he had outlived four reigns: his father, his nephew—after the founding emperor’s death, the throne had first passed to the imperial grandson, but the late emperor, formidable as he was, seized power from his nephew. In terms of seniority, the Prince of Dai and the late emperor were of the same generation, so the prince had also outlived his brother. And now, yet another nephew had taken the throne—and set him free.

This scene was like a vicious wolf breaking free from its cage. Judging by Prince of Dai’s flaunting through the streets just a day after his release from confinement, it hardly seemed like he had repented at all.

“What are we to do? We’ve barely had a few peaceful years,” muttered the neighbors nearby, their ears perked as they gradually gathered. Hearing this, their faces also clouded with worry. Some who had personally suffered under Prince Dai Manor’s cruelty even showed outright terror.

Another Yamen Runner chimed in, “Stop complaining. We’re the unlucky ones here. You folks can at least hide if you can’t fight back. When word got out that Prince of Dai was spotted on the streets, the county magistrate rushed us out here to ‘keep an eye’ on him—just to prevent major chaos the moment he steps out. What a joke! If Prince of Dai doesn’t come knocking our heads off, we should count ourselves lucky. Who dares to control him?”

Gong the Yamen Runner shook his head and sighed heavily. “Enough. No use talking. We signed up for this job. Let’s go.”

The Yamen Runners dragged themselves away, their slumped figures radiating dejection. Though they could usually swagger around the streets with some authority, against a scourge like Prince of Dai, they were nothing more than ants—easily crushed under his thumb.

The county magistrate had ordered them to “watch” Prince of Dai, but they weren’t fools. Hearing that Prince of Dai had just passed through, they deliberately slowed their pace to avoid catching up to him—that would spell disaster.

But fate is unpredictable. No matter how slowly the Yamen Runners walked, they still ran into Prince of Dai’s household—because the family had turned around and come back!

The Yamen Runners nearly bolted in terror, their legs turning to jelly. But in their panic, something felt off.

—Why did Prince of Dai’s household seem just as chaotic?

And the most crucial figure was missing: Prince of Dai himself.

The household spotted the Yamen Runners too. The leader, a man in bright clothing, halted abruptly, grabbed Gong before he could dodge, and pointed fiercely. “Arrest these two rebels! They’ve dared to commit treason—they murdered my father, the Prince!”

Gong’s collar was yanked without warning, startling him so badly his face twisted. Then, hearing the accusation, his mind buzzed in shock. Instinctively, he followed the man’s pointing finger—

There stood Xu Shi and Zhan Jianxing.

Xu Shi was dumbstruck. “I—I—this humble woman—”

A crushing accusation had fallen from the sky, leaving her too stunned to form a coherent sentence.

“Master must be mistaken,” Zhan Jianxing stepped forward, suppressing his anger and cupping his hands respectfully. “This commoner’s household consists only of my mother and me. We sell steamed buns on this street, just scraping by with a meager trade. We would never dare commit such treasonous acts.”

He had no idea what madness had seized Prince Dai Manor this time, but such an enormous accusation could never be accepted.

Xu Shi, regaining some composure, nodded frantically. “Yes, Master, my lords! How could a lowly woman like me dare harm someone as exalted as the Prince?”

Even the Yamen Runners thought Prince Dai Manor’s people were out of their minds. Xu Shi had settled in her late husband’s hometown with her son, registering with the authorities—their background was clear. Her husband was dead, leaving only this impoverished pair. Even if they had a grudge against Prince of Dai, how could they possibly harm him?

The man in fine clothes raised his voice even louder and shouted, “It was your family’s steamed buns that poisoned my father to death! He collapsed on the road not long after leaving here. How dare you deny it!”

Poisoned—to death?!

The entire street froze in horror.